


Take Me Out to the Ball Game

by AllHailKingRooker51



Category: Michael Rooker - Fandom
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Public Sex, Smut, public bathroom sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-14 01:02:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18042488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllHailKingRooker51/pseuds/AllHailKingRooker51
Summary: A little backstory about this fic - Michael Rooker was in a Budweiser commercial way back in 1984.  Rookerstash (who unfortunately isn’t on Tumblr anymore) suggested amongst the Rooker Hookers that we needed a smutty scenario about the “Cute Beer Can Hat Guy” (as we affectionately called him)…here’s what I came up with.You can watch the commercial here - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s6NXkH9Wcp8





	Take Me Out to the Ball Game

It was a picture-perfect day in Chi-town – the sun  hanging high in the  clear blue  sky, a balmy  temperature of 72 degrees, a  pleasant  whisper of a breeze on the air.  It was a beautiful day for baseball.   Or at least it would have been if the blind date your bestie had set you up with had actually shown.  Your friend had been nagging you for weeks to let her set you up with her new co-worker.   “He’s  sooooo sweet,” she said.  “He’s  suuuuch a nice guy.  He’s perfect for you!”  You finally agreed, a little out of curiosity to meet this so-called wonderful guy and a little to finally get her to shut up.

After waiting for him outside the left field gate of Wrigley Field well into the 1st inning, you soon got the hint.  

_ Well, this is just great,  _ you thought.   _ You know what?  I give up.  _ You  had  made up your mind.   There weren't  any “nice” guys left in the world.  

You thought about heading home and drowning away yet another  misfortune in your  unlucky love life with a pint of ice cream and a good book.  But you had already bought a ticket to the game.  It had been ages since you had been to a Cubs game.  Plus, it was too pretty of a day to spend moping about inside your cramped apartment.  So, you picked your chin up and waltzed into that stadium head held high.  You weren’t going to let  that guy ruin your day.

You found your seat on the third base side and sat content for a while, enjoying all the sights and sounds that come with a ball game.  Around the top of the 3rd inning, you were dying of thirst.  You got up and went off in search of a concession stand for an ice-cold soda.  

You pushed your way through the mob of fans and got in line at the first concession stand you came to.  The line must have been 30 people deep, all crammed together like sardines in a  can.   Finally, after waiting for what  felt like  a month of Sundays you made it to the front of the line  and ordered  your  soda.  As you walked away, someone in quite a hurry bumped into you, spilling beer all over your arm and shirt.

A little peeved, you were _just_ about to give that someone a stern talking to about watching where they were going.  However, that all vanished when you looked up and were met with the most gorgeous set of blue eyes you had ever seen, albeit hidden under the bill of a silly novelty baseball cap with a beer can squashed onto the top.

The eyes belonged to a man around 30 years old you figured, holding a hot dog and a half-filled cup of beer, the other half now soaking into your shirt.  He was a little taller than you, a handsome face with a square jaw and chiseled cheekbones, and brown curly hair hidden under that hat.He wore a patterned, green short sleeved button up shirt, the first few buttons undone giving a peek of his nicely toned chest, and his khaki shorts hugged him in all the right places.

Your heart literally skipped a beat, something that had never happened before when it came to men.  It was instant chemistry, and from the way he was looking at you, you could tell he felt it, too.

He snapped out of it and  immediately  began apologizing profusely.  

“I'm  soooo sorry,”  he exclaimed.   You quickly took notice that his voice was sexy, too.

He moved his beer to his other hand,  trying to juggle both the cup and his hot dog at once,  and grabbed for a wad of napkins he had stuck in his back pocket.  He handed them to you still apologizing.

“It’s ok.  Don’t worry about it,” you assured him.  “It's partly my fault, anyway.  I should have been paying more attention.”  You took the napkins and wiped your arm dry and then started to dab at the wet spot on your shirt.

“I  just..just didn’t want to miss any of the game.   I guess I wasn’t  watchin' where I was  going.  I really am sorry.  Let me make it up  to  you.  Um... ”  He looked around frantically trying to figure out what on earth he could do to make this better.   He pointed to a little vendor cart selling Cubs t-shirts.   “I know, let me buy you a new shirt!  So you can get out of that wet one.”  

“No, it’s fine, I promise.  It really is ok.”  

“C’mon, there’s  gotta be  _ something _ I can do.” he pleaded.

You had never seen a man as beautiful as the one who currently stood before you. And the fact that he wore that dorky hat made him even more attractive.Something deep inside told you this was fate.  Out of _all_ the people in the stadium, _he_ was the one that ran into you.  Surely, it wasn’t just a coincidence.  

You scanned your eyes across his hands – no wedding ring.But, surely a guy like him was taken.  You were about to find out at least.You had an idea how he could repay you, but it would muster all the courage you had. 

“What about you letting me watch the rest of the game with you?” you  asked timidly, praying he wasn’t  at the game with his girlfriend. You were never this forward, but you didn’t want to lose him just yet.

He obviously never expected that answer and fumbled over his words.  “Um, y- yeah..I..uh..yeah..absolutely, c’mon.   It's just me and my buddy,  and you’re more than welcome to join us.”  The look of shock on his face  faded into a  crooked grin as he turned to lead the  way.   Your heart melted a little more.

You followed him  through the crowd, not minding when you got a little separated on the way.  It allowed quite the view of his cute butt in those tight shorts.

When you got to his seat, he introduced his friend who also happened to be a co-worker.

“This is Frank.  Frank, this  is..um..sorry, I  didn’t get your name.”

You introduced yourself to Frank  just  as your new love interest sat down, quickly  drawing your  eyes  back to him.   The way his shorts scooted up his thighs a little when he sat  down, the fabric tightening over his crotch revealing a nice bulge, you couldn’t turn away.   It was suddenly  _ really _ hot in Wrigley Field.

You made small talk at first, both of you a little nervous but becoming more comfortable as time went by.  Soon, you lost all concentration on the game, focusing your full attention on the blue-eyed, curly-haired dream that had accidentally stumbled into your life.  

You  learned  his name was Allen.  He was a city bus driver by day, and by night, an up-and-coming actor, the hot new  item on the Chicago theater scene.  He had been a Cubs fan since moving to Chicago as a teenager, and he made sure to catch at least one game a week during the season, usually with  Frank.

Over the next couple of hours, you got to know one another as much as two people could in that brief span of time, and before long, you both seemed like old friends. And Allen actually listened to you when you spoke and was genuinely interested in what you had to say, something that until now the previous men in your life never did. 

When Allen talked, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.  You were discovering he was just as beautiful on the inside as out. He was respectful and polite, the perfect mix of sweet and a little shy, humble, charming and funny. And that laugh of his?  You hoped you never had to go another day without hearing it.

There was no denying you were falling for him.

Now, there was also no denying the sexual tension between the two of you. Since the moment you first laid eyes on him, you had been trying to brush aside  the  ever-growing  feeling of wanting to  know what he looked like under his clothes, to sleep with this man  you had just met and barely knew.   That feeling was getting harder and harder to ignore.

At some point during the conversation, Allen's bare leg accidentally brushed against yours.  You swore you felt a spark, an electric surge tingling through your body from where your skin had touched.  He looked down mid-sentence, losing his train of thought for a second, before turning to you and smiling.  He felt it, too.

By the 7th inning stretch, the stands began to empty as spectators slowly started trickling out of the stadium.  The Cubs were down by 12 runs, and it wasn’t looking good for a  late-in-the-game rally. 

Frank slapped Allen on the shoulder and stood up to leave.

“Alright, Al, I’m  headin’ out.  Game’s a bust, and I got an early route in the morning.”  Frank extended his hand towards you.  “It was really nice meeting you.  And, hey, don’t let this clown give  ya’ too much trouble,  hm ?”  

You smiled and shook Frank’s hand.   “Don’t worry, I won’t.”  You  looked at Allen and swore you saw a little redness appear on his cheeks.

Thankfully, Allen didn’t give any impression  that he was ready  to  leave.  You  certainly weren’t.

More and more people left, but, unfortunately not the group of drunk bozos in the seats in front of you.  At first, it had been fairly easy to ignore them.  But they had been getting gradually louder and more obnoxious with every beer they downed – throwing Crackerjacks, cursing, heckling the visiting team's left fielder.  They were a real bunch of charmers.

At the bottom of the 8th, the Cubs  third baseman was up to bat.  He swung on the first pitch, and a loud crack echoed across the field, the unmistakable sound of the ball coming in contact with the sweet spot of the  barrel. You knew that ball was going over the fence somewhere.  It was a futile effort, the visiting team having scored three more runs in the top half, but it was a homer nonetheless.   And you saw  the ball  heading straight for your section.

The ball was moving  like steel to a magnet straight for you. You and Allen stood up in anticipation, Allen's baseball glove at the ready.  You put your old  softball skills to work and reached up, the ball landing  flawlessly right into your hands.

It was just your luck that the three drunk bozos had also  jumped up to try  to snag the ball.  The  guy directly in front of you  snatched the ball from your  hands as soon as you caught it. His  pals  hooted and hollered, congratulating  him, clapping him on the back like he was the one that had made the catch.

Allen immediately saw red.  “Hey, man! That’s hers!” 

The drunk guy turned around and glared at Allen.  “Yeah?Whatchu gonna do aboudit?” he slurred.  “How's about you and your ‘lil bitch just sit the fuck down ‘fore I make ya'.” He pushed Allen hard in the chest, nearly knocking him backward against the seats.  

Allen’s Irish blood boiled over.  The tendons in his neck tightened and he gritted his teeth.   If this fucker wanted a fight, Allen was happy to oblige.  He drew back his fist, seconds away from clocking the drunk bastard across the face when you grabbed his arm.  You shook your head no.  “It’s not worth it.  C’mon.”  You took his hand and started to lead him away, the trio of drunk guys still hurling insults at your backs.

Allen protested,  “But..but..that ball’s yours!  You caught it fair and square.  And I’m not gonna let that little shit talk about you that way.”  He was pissed no doubt.  But you had plans to take his mind off being angry.  All of your feelings that had been building for Allen the last couple of hours were already at a peak and this incident just sent them exploding over the edge.  The way he had just stood up for you, outnumbered and risking getting his ass kicked for a woman he had just met, it was making your panties wet just thinking about it.  You wanted him, _needed_ him right then.

You led him out of the stands desperately trying to find the nearest restroom or unlocked utility closet, _anywhere_ that would give the two of you some sort of privacy.

The first available option was a men's bathroom.  You barged through the door, Allen in tow. Luckily, attendance had dropped a great deal in the ballpark so the bathroom wasn’t crowded.  There was one man, however, washing his hands at the sink.  You gave him a glare and he hurried to dry his hands and swiftly shuffled out the door.

Your heart was pounding.   _ You don’t do this. _ _ This isn’t you at all.   _ But ecstasy had officially taken over.  There was just something about Allen that you couldn’t wait another second to feel his lips on your skin, his hands on your body, caressing places on you begging to be touched. 

You yanked him into a stall and slammed the door, locking it behind you.  Allen’s mouth hung open.  He couldn’t believe this was happening, but from the hardening bulge in his shorts, you could tell he was game.

“Are we really doing this?” he rasped. You pulled off your shirt and draped it over the stall wall.  Allen’s eyes grew large.   “I’ll take that as a yes,” he gulped.

“That was so fucking hot what you just did.”  You grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him to you, kissing him hard on the mouth and nearly knocking off his stupid beer can hat.  

Allen tangled his fingers in your hair, moaning against your kiss as you palmed his bulge and rubbed him over the fabric of his shorts.  You quickly broke away from his lips to unbutton his shirt, pushing it back over his broad shoulders.  He shuddered as you traced your fingers across his chest down to the lean muscles of his belly.  You kept going, undoing the button and zipper of his shorts and tugging them down, his dick springing forward, already dripping from the tip. 

He was just as beautiful underneath his clothes.

Everything was happening in a heated frenzy.  As much as you wanted this to last, to take your time exploring every inch of Allen’s body, time was of the essence.  It was only a matter of time before someone walked in on your little rendezvous.  

Allen helped you shimmy out of your shorts along with the lacy red panties you had worn, now soaked with your arousal.  He cursed under his breath and pushed his knee between your thighs,  using his leg  to sweep yours apart.  He reached his hand down to  your  apex, circling your clit with his thumb before gliding one, then two fingers inside the silken curls of your core.  You purred beneath his touch, grinding yourself against his expert  fingers .  

“Allen, I want you so fucking bad,” you begged.

He pulled his hand away and grabbed beneath your thighs with both arms, lifting you up and pressing you against the stall door.  You wrapped your legs around him as he pushed inside, molding your body with his.

Allen grunted and buried his face against your neck, sucking and biting on the sensitive skin there as he began to thrust, slow at first but then quickening as he found his rhythm.   You tried to be quiet, but you couldn’t hold back the sounds of pleasure as he plunged his hips into you over and over again, withdrawing and sliding home faster and harder each time.  It wouldn’t take long for either one of you to get to the grand slam.  

Suddenly, you heard the unmistakable sound of door hinges creaking as someone entered the restroom whistling the melody to “Take Me Out to the Ball Game".  The tune came to an abrupt end when the man undoubtedly saw a pair of legs with shorts around the ankles and various sex noises coming from the stall.Once again the door hinges squeaked, this time giving away the man's hasty retreat.

Allen looked at you and you both  burst into laughter.   It was now no secret what was happening in the men’s bathroom by Section 502.

Despite the interruption, neither one of you dared to end things early, and you soon felt the tension down below pooling in your lower belly.  You cried out and threw your head back against the door, digging your nails in Allen’s  shoulders as the long, slow ride of your climax coursed through your body, your inner walls tightening and fluttering around Allen’s dick.

Seconds after, you could feel Allen throbbing inside you.  “Fuck, I'm  gonna come,” he whispered against your ear.

He pulled out and set you down, your legs trembling and nearly giving out beneath you.  You circled your fingers around his dick, jerking it in your hand.  Allen gripped the top of the stall door, breathing heavy.  He closed his eyes and with a moan from deep in his chest, he reached his own peak, marking you across your stomach with warm strands of cum.

Barely giving either of you a moment to recover, Allen kissed you, a slow, passionate kiss that nearly made your knees buckle again.  He helped you clean up and handed you your clothes.  You glanced at Allen as you redressed.He had a devilish grin on his face as he pulled his shorts up and buttoned them.  “Hey, uh, the Cubbies are playing again tomorrow.  Early afternoon game.Can we maybe do this again?”

His cheeks blushed immediately, realizing how bad that might have sounded.  He started talking 90 to nothing trying to recover.  “I-I mean not _this_ exactly…I mean don’t get me wrong, _this_ was amazing…but I just want you know I’m not usually this kind of guy, but I'm not gonna lie, the way you caught that ball earlier kinda turned me on, and you’re just so beautiful and all, and I like you a lot…like _a_ _lot_ _.._ like I’m fallin' for you more and more every second and I'd really like to keep getting to know ya'…I-I mean if it's ok with you, of course… fuck, I can’t think straight around you…y-you know what?  I'm just gonna stop talking now.”  He let out a much-needed deep breath.

You giggled and put your  index  finger to his lips.   He was cute when he was angry but even more so  when he was flustered.

“Yes, Allen, I'll watch the game with you tomorrow. ”

He  chewed on his bottom lip, smiling.  “Yeah?”

“Yeah.  Now let’s get  outta here before  we’re banned for public indecency.” 

*******************************************************

On the way out of the stadium, you passed by the gift  shop.

Allen stopped and grabbed your arm, halting you in place.  “Hey, wait for me just a sec.  I'll be right back.” He disappeared inside.

A few minutes later he came out of the store obviously holding something behind his back.He bit back a smile and handed you what he had been hiding – a souvenir baseball with the Cubs logo on it.

“I mean it's  not a  home run ball, but…,”  his voice shied away.

Now you were blushing.  “Thank you, Allen.”   You  gave him a peck on the cheek, holding  the baseball  up  to your heart.  This one meant way more than that stupid  home run ball ever would.  

Allen walked you all the way to your car,  making sure you got there safely.

He opened the driver's side door for you, propping his arms  atop the door frame. “So, I'll still  see  ya' tomorrow?  I promise I won’t spill my beer on  ya' this time.”  He paused.  “ Well, honestly, I can't really promise that.   I can be  kind of clumsy sometimes. ”  

He smiled that lopsided grin again.   Man, he was making it so easy to fall  harder for him.

Taking his  face in your palm, you gently kissed him.   “ Meet me at  the  third base gate at  noon.”

You  got in the car and drove away leaving Allen stunned in the parking lot. 

You left Wrigley Field having officially changed your mind.

There was at least one nice guy left in the world and  turns out, it  _ was  _ a beautiful day for baseball.


End file.
